


Suspension

by linaerys



Category: Heroes RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-17
Updated: 2007-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linaerys/pseuds/linaerys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is filming and then there is sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspension

**Author's Note:**

> This is my porny companion to [this interview](http://47-trek-47.livejournal.com/228079.html) and [this picture](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/NSPsAbroad/random%20pics/8-wideflyingrig.jpg). Thank you to [](http://technosage.livejournal.com/profile)[**technosage**](http://technosage.livejournal.com/) for beta-ing and hand-holding above and beyond the call of duty. Also, this is entirely fictional, should there be any question about that.

The harness that lets Peter and Nathan fly together isn’t the most comfortable piece of equipment, but Adrian’s been in worse. Lengths of rip-stop nylon webbing thread through holes in Nathan’s suit so the attachments don’t wrinkle and bunch the fabric, and it’s the same for Milo, except he has the hot woman engineer kneeling with her face in front of his crotch, passing cold cables over and under his clothes. Adrian’s not sure which of them has it worse; the engineer attending to him is a skinny older guy who can’t keep his pants up.

The jokes start as soon as they get in position to be hoisted up in the air. Milo lies down on the floor and Adrian settles himself on top, with the cables keeping some of Adrian’s weight off him. At first it’s “good thing you like each other” from the engineers, but then Greg and Sendhil show up to watch and the jokes get worse.

“Natalie told me about the trapeze in your bedroom but I didn’t think you’d bring it here,” calls out Greg as the winch lifts them into the air.

Under the lights in the studio they quickly grow hot. Adrian’s face is close enough to Milo’s to see the spirit gum on his forehead where the wig is attached, imperfectly covered by makeup. A piece of tape peeks out over one of his ears. It doesn’t matter—FX will add the distorting heat of the explosion and blur out any imperfections. Dark smudges, courtesy of cosmetics, shadow circles around Milo’s eyes and paint hollows under his cheekbones.

After they’ve hung there for a few minutes, Milo starts to sweat under the lights, under the strain of holding himself up under Adrian. “God, this is uncomfortable.” He reaches between them to adjust slightly, and shrugs an apology when his fingers brush over Adrian’s dick. There’s no room for him to avoid it.

“You’re supposed to be exploding,” Adrian says in Nathan-voice, thin and dry and clipped. “Use it.” Milo makes a face.

“Next time I get to be on top,” Milo says with a smirk when the engineers let them down.

“If you insist,” Adrian says, more as a matter of form than from any commitment to the teasing. It’s early, he’s tired, and tomorrow is only going to be worse, with five hours in the makeup chair to get his burned face applied before the shooting even starts. He drinks a cup of coffee while someone fusses with Milo’s wig, then it’s back in the harness.

He’ll blame the coffee, he decides, for heating him up beyond what’s reasonable. The harnesses truss them tightly together. This time the pulley system glides them through the air in front of the green screen as the camera moves over them for flight.

During one pass the cables get twisted and the engineers have to get up on ladders to sort them out again. “This is pretty cozy, isn’t it?” says Milo. He’s in full Peter mode, voice low and serious, trying not to smile and crease the makeup into lines that might suggest Peter _enjoys_ exploding over Manhattan and killing his brother. Adrian tries to shrug and make some noncommittal noise when Milo reaches down and palms his ass.

“Very cozy.” Adrian bends his head down so he can bite Milo’s neck. Two can play this game, and they’ve taken it a lot further than this before. It’s fun, a joke, a lark for the fans who eat it up when Adrian and Milo act like Peter and Nathan are not-so-secretly fucking each other. Every time Tim brings it up, Adrian gropes Milo and reminds Tim that’s how he wrote it.

Before he can do something to make Milo squirm, the cables snap them back to their starting position and Tim calls for another run. This time as they float through the air, Adrian is distinctly aware of his body pressed against Milo, the pale skin of Milo’s neck unbitten, still unpunished for the earlier groping.

The lights shine on the dark gray wool of his suit, warming the backs of his legs, and his skin prickles from the heat and sweat. _Use it_ , he tells himself. _Dying’s not supposed to be pleasant._ But his back is cool compared to the parts of him that press up against Milo. Sweat and heat gather under the straps of the harness. Sweat drips over his temples and off his lower lip. He can’t even feel if it’s his sweat or Milo’s between them.

Milo is sweating too; the spirit gum that holds his wig starts to peel up. His stomach muscles flutter against Adrian’s as he strains to hold himself up in the more difficult lower position. Soon they’ll switch and that will be Adrian’s position, so there’s footage of them flying from every possible perspective.

The engineers let them down again for another break and Adrian falls on top of Milo, the full length of his body against Milo’s. He’s weirdly aware of Milo today, together for the first time after weeks of shooting separately. Milo has beefed himself up since last season and he’s an unyielding surface to be lying on.

They get unhooked, and now it’s Adrian’s turn to be on the bottom. Milo places himself on top of Adrian but keeps himself pressed up in a half push-up that brushes his body maddeningly against Adrian’s--worse than if Milo’s full weight were on him. Adrian’s been at quarter-mast all morning from friction and heat and frustration, but this . . . _teasing_ makes him more than half-hard by the time the cable hoists them into the air again.

He looks at Milo, who’s biting his lower lip as he tries to keep in position. It’s a Milo expression, not a Peter one, but his face settles when Tim announces another take. Adrian hopes he looks as professional.

He could keep this arousal a joke by saying something flirty, maybe loudly enough for Sendhil and Greg to hear on the ground, but it’s feeling like less and less of one as the moments go by.

Milo’s been passed out in Adrian’s hotel room bed, too drunk to stand and Adrian’s woken him with a kiss on the forehead. There’s a never-to-be-seen outtake of them making out after one of the early Nathan-Peter scenes, when they decided to turn a much-too-intense-to-be-brothers moment into something even Leonard had to admit was over the top.

A little hard-on while strapped together is nothing to that.

They wait for some issue of lighting to be sorted out. Soon Milo will say something like, “Glad you’re still happy to see me,” or something worse, and Adrian will be able to laugh and shrug instead of thinking about how he can smell Milo’s sweat now, not the tired and grimy sweat from travel, or Milo’s sweaty-sour drunk sweat but good clean, sweat from the heat, pricking through in patterns on Peter’s Henley.

Adrian starts to shake from holding himself up like this; Milo made it look a lot easier. His back is going to be screaming at him tomorrow—he’s not twenty anymore, and this is the most physically demanding role he’s ever played—and like Milo’s reading Adrian’s mind, he reaches around to hold Adrian’s waist lower, so his arms take some of the strain.

Now he really is pressed right against Milo, and he know Milo’s going to say something, anything, something Adrian can’t form thoughts to say, to diffuse this. Instead he notices that Milo is breathing harder than he should, harder than he was when their positions were reversed, and _he’s_ getting hard against Adrian.

“Guess you _do_ like being on top,” Adrian murmurs, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

Milo’s throat works as he swallows and says, “Yeah, right.”

The engineers do something to the cables and drops Adrian an inch or two so now air can flow between their bodies. The fan meant to simulate wind starts up and dries the sweat on his body, except where it’s still hot from being too close to Milo. He sways in the cable and his dick brushes Milo’s through jeans and boxers and wool suiting but it still feels like being naked as the fan shivers his skin.

The winch lets them down again for lunch and then it’s finally time to start saying lines, since they’ve filmed the faster motion. It’s more acting now, less hanging on for dear life, and if Nathan’s hard for Peter, well, that’s part of the characterization they worked out.

“You go, I go,” Adrian yells over the noise of the fan. Now he’s into it and nothing else matters.

Milo digs his fingers into Adrian’s shoulder. “No! I’ll be okay. You can fly, I can’t.”

Milo lets his head fall backwards, arching his neck, muscles and tendons standing out more than they did when season one wrapped. The cables shift and his leg falls between Milo’s, brushing against where Milo’s still hard. “Nathan,” he gasps, and Adrian realizes a few minutes into it that they’re still in the scene. He hasn’t blanked out like that in ages, not since his first movie.

He pulls Milo close, and that intimacy, having his arms wrapped around Milo, just makes his hard-on worse. Milo stays intense and serious between takes, still gripping onto Adrian’s arm, tears standing out in his eyes. He breathes too hard and presses himself against Adrian, as part of his character or not, it hardly matters at this point. Adrian’s nervous and overheated—probably perfect for this scene—and his legs are shaking more than a little when Tim finally yells, “That’s a wrap. We’ll shoot with the makeup tomorrow.”

They return Adrian and Milo to the starting mark and let them down. Adrian picks himself up gingerly, stretching tired muscles and willing his heart rate to slow. He meets Milo’s gaze while the cables come off, and Milo touches his fingers to his lips. Adrian walks a couple of awkward steps before his legs feel like his own again. The air running over where the harness pressed the blood from his flesh is a luxurious pleasure, embarrassingly sexual following so close on the heels of the day’s other sensations.

Milo gives him a look before walking toward the door, an expression he’s seen on Milo before but never understood until now, because now he’s sure his face looks the same, wears the same mixture of hunger and worry, accusation and fear.

“I’m glad they didn’t try to film Nathan and Matt flying to Philly,” says Greg with a grin, as he walks with Adrian toward the exit. Adrian presses his fingers into spots on his neck, not places that are sore, but just places that want touching—by fingers other than his, but this will do for now.

“Hmmm? Yeah, lucky you. I’m gonna take a shower,” he says after taking an apple and a bottle of water from the craft services table. He brushes past Milo on his way out of the studio. He doesn’t mean to; Milo’s just there, taking up more space than he used to, literally and figuratively, but his body wakes Adrian’s again and for a moment he’s back up there, under the lights, and when Milo turns to meet his eyes there’s nothing playful or joking between them.

Once he’s safe inside is trailer he presses the water bottle to his forehead, as if the heat is just under his skin and can be dealt with so easily. He’s not really surprised when the door to his trailer opens a minute after he takes off his jacket. He finishes pulling off his shirt as Milo closes the door behind him. Milo doesn’t say anything; he lets his eyes speak for him as he has all day, giving Adrian a look too intense, too open for Adrian to brush off with a flip remark.

And if Adrian’s honest with himself, he’ll admit that this is what they’ve both been running away from since the first time they sat down together with scripts and pencils and decided to dirty up Peter and Nathan’s relationship. Part of the fun of the joke is that he gets to have Milo’s hands pressing into his skin, moving under his shirt when they clowned around, tired and punch-drunk in the airport in Germany. He remembers now how Milo’s thumb brushing his neck burned and lingered longer than it should.

Milo lets Adrian cross the few feet between them, and still they stand, half a foot apart, further apart than they’ve been all day, for a long moment. Milo reaches out and grabs Adrian’s forearm, fingers digging into the muscle. “Don’t,” he breathes, and Adrian knows Milo’s not warning him off; this is “don’t back out now.”

Milo darts in and brushes his lips across his. They’re petal soft from the cold cream they all use to take off the makeup, and taste like it too, when Adrian pulls him deeper, cool and greasy until Adrian kisses the remnants off and it’s just Milo underneath.

When they kiss now it’s for real, not a show for the camera but a slow exploration instead, Adrian’s whole world narrows this: Milo’s lips on his, Milo’s tongue parting them, Milo’s hands strong and sure on the small of his back.

And then there’s nothing slow about it. Milo presses him up against the counter of the kitchenette with a crash that probably sets heads turning outside. Their kisses turn from voluptuous to urgent as Milo undoes the front of Adrian’s pants and wraps his hands around Adrian’s cock. “Eight hours,” Adrian mumbles against Milo’s neck, between bites of the skin he wanted to taste earlier.

“Eight months,” Milo counters, “at least,” as his thumb runs over the head and sends blood rushing there. He’s too busy trying to get his hands over all of Milo’s skin, under his shirt, curving over his ass for them to come together. He spurts into Milo’s hand before he’s even gotten Milo’s fly undone, and Milo holds him up while Adrian sighs out his orgasm into Milo’s mouth.

But it’s not over yet; he’s just getting his hand around Milo, who’s as hot and ready as he was. Adrian bends down to tongue Milo’s nipple as he strokes him long and hard, one, two and three and Milo fucks his hand. He’s hot and firm and smooth under Adrian’s fingers, his head thrown back, bucking helplessly against Adrian when he comes. They hold onto each other, breathing hard, as Adrian waits for his heart to stop racing.

Then, reluctantly, he puts his hand on Milo’s chest and pushes him away. Milo’s face is flushed, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. He licks his lips and starts to closes his mouth, only to let it hang open in a pant again when Adrian’s thumb brushes over his nipple. Adrian swallows and glances at the clock on the microwave. It’s been less than ten minutes since they left the studio.

“Go take a shower,” says Adrian gently. “We have to watch the dailies.” Milo pulls himself back together, tugging up the pants pooled around his ankles, and Adrian takes a shower, sluicing come from his hands and thighs under the hot water. The tiny bathroom mirror is steamed up when he gets out. He smoothes his hair back by feel and pulls on khakis and a sweatshirt. No underwear. This isn’t over yet; he’s still edgy, unsatisfied.

He sits down in front of the bank of monitors and looks at tape from today without seeing it. Milo follows a few minutes later. Bits of spirit gum still cling to his forehead, and when he looks up at Adrian it’s like nothing got solved by that frantic moment in his trailer; Milo’s still questioning, Adrian’s still balanced on the edge of answering.

He sits down on the chair behind Adrian’s without saying anything, and they watch a few of the takes. Tim explains how the animation is going to work, the bloom of burned flesh growing from Nathan’s left cheek as they fly. Adrian feels the heat from Milo’s body behind him when he leans back and smells the soap Milo uses, probably something way to expensive from Keilhs. He’ll give Adrian chapter and verse about it if he asks.

“Your hair’s getting too long,” Milo says. He ruffles the ducktails that form at the edges when it dries, worse when he doesn’t put anything in it.

“Nathan and Peter can’t have short hair at the same time, I guess.” It doesn’t matter what he says; he can’t shake his voice from those bedroom tones, low and intimate.

Tim gives them notes and they wrap a little after 7pm. “Adrian, you’ve got makeup at five tomorrow,” Tim reminds him before dismissing them for the night.

“Five . . . in the morning?” Milo asks. When Adrian turns, it’s surprisingly easy to meet Milo’s eyes. He’s not embarrassed he’s just—Milo tucks his chin down and looks up at him—he wants more, a lot more. His heart pounds and his face goes hot again.

“Yes.” Adrian nods and swallows thickly. “I was going to stay in the hotel tonight so I can wake up earlier.” Adrian widens his eyes and nods—a Nathan mannerism, but perfect here, and better than any invitation he can come up with on his own. Milo’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and dips his chin in response.

Adrian gets to the hotel first, and sits on his the bed, feeling nervous as a teenager. Milo better follow, and he’d better bring lube and condoms and anything else that he’s allowed to carry around because he’s single and Adrian’s not.

The hotel knows them, so Adrian’s not surprised when Milo isn’t announced by a phone call, only a knock on the door. He’s got his backpack and a CVS bag, and even with the short hair, looks absurdly young. Adrian’s mouth goes dry. He crosses the few steps between them slowly, deliberately, and kisses Milo. It’s not abandoned like before, or holding them off from the edge, it’s an agreement, a “yes” without words.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Milo asks, with his sideways smile.

“Later.” Adrian’s voice goes low, something he can control at times, when someone points a camera at him, but not now, as Milo parts his mouth eagerly.

Whatever tension was between them snaps like a rubber band and pulls them together, lips and teeth colliding. Milo tugs his shirt over his head and pulls Adrian’s off soon after. Adrian slows down to savor some firsts, Milo’s chest pressed bare to his when he pulls Milo’s down on top of him, Milo’s shiver when Adrian draws his hand up the inside of Milo’s thigh.

“Did you want this all along?” Milo asks. Adrian half wishes he wouldn’t, that they could play and laugh and he can leave pink trails on Milo’s pale skin with his stubble and not talk about things like that. “I did,” he adds, when Adrian teases Milo’s nipple between his teeth rather than answering.

“Yes,” he answers, first because he wants to please Milo, but also because it’s true, because he’s had this jealous fascination with Milo since they met, and it’s only starting to make sense now.

He kisses his way down Milo’s body so he doesn’t have to elaborate, and slides Milo’s cock over his tongue, feeling it harden in his mouth. Milo buries his hands in Adrian’s hair and guides his head. _Pushy_ , Adrian thinks, smiling around him.

“Come _on_ ,” says Milo.

Adrian lets Milo’s cock slide out between his lips, and looks up at him. “Brat.”

“So?”

“I have other plans for you,” says Adrian with a lazy smile. Milo widens his eyes and gives a theatrical gulp. If he’s fantasized about anything, it’s fucking Milo, watching him gasp and shudder around him. But Milo’s been the one pushing them here, by turns aggressive and hesitant. If it’s only going to be once—and he doesn’t want to think about whether it will be or not, all the variables that go into that equation—if it’s just this once, he wants to be fucked so he remembers it for a long time.

Milo doesn’t answer, just opens his goody bag: in it are a couple different kinds of lube and condoms. Adrian raises his eyebrows when he picks up the “magnum” variety. “This works for you?” He opens one up and starts sliding it onto Milo.

“Wait? You want me to fuck you?”

Leave it to Milo just to blurt it out like that. “Yes.” Adrian tilts his head to one side.

Milo comes to his knees and kisses Adrian hard, taking over like he rarely gets to do when they’re on screen together. He grips Adrian’s face possessively with one hand and curves the hand over Adrian’s ass, letting his fingers fall between. He brushes the sensitive skin, a little hesitant until Adrian presses back against him.

“Fuck me,” says Adrian into Milo’s mouth; Milo’s embarrassment frees him from feeling any of his own. He pulls Milo down on top of him—he wants to be face to face when they come. He’s urgent again, kissing Milo as sloppy and hard as he did in the trailer. Milo slicks up a finger and slides it in as Adrian pushes back against it. He wants Milo inside him now, yesterday.

Milo catches the urgency and fingers him open, one finger, two, then rubs his cock between Adrian’s legs, teasing over his entrance before sliding it away until Adrian’s panting for it, digging his fingers into Milo’s hips to pull him in.

He pushes hard inside just when Adrian’s sure he can’t stand anymore torment. Adrian goes soft then hard again as Milo splits him open. Milo rocks into him, kissing his neck, murmuring and moaning unintelligible words, while Adrian drags him in, forcing them together, feeling Milo hit something deep inside. He’s not going to last long, but he doesn’t want to, just wants Milo slamming into him as he comes on his stomach. Milo comes a second later, making faces like he’s gasping for air. Like he’s exploding.

They shower together, and eat room service while wrapped in fluffy robes. Adrian’s hair dries crazy, and Milo can’t stop touching it, until they’re kissing again, licking carbonara sauce off each other’s lips. Adrian fucks Milo this time, from behind, his chest pressed to Milo’s back, and Adrian tells him it’s only fair they should both be sore tomorrow while they’re hanging up in that harness.

Later, while their sweat dries and Adrian nuzzles sleepily at the salty skin of Milo’s neck, he thinks about consequences, about what Milo would think of Natalie watching or joining in. Because that’s how this is supposed to work. He traces the fading marks of fingers and teeth on Milo’s skin and tries to imagine sharing this. It’s a problem for another day.

Milo’s looks at him, eyes sleep-heavy, and cups his hand around Adrian’s chin, then yawns and flops onto his back. Adrian sets the alarm for 4am so he can get to the studio in time for makeup. He’s sore and tired from a day in the harness and from the sex, and he’ll feel worse tomorrow, but for now the soreness makes him drowsy, and Milo’s presence, so distracting all day is calming too.

He falls into sleep like a soft blanket, floating away. _The way flying’s supposed to be,_ he thinks, before sleep takes him entirely. Effortless.


End file.
